Behind the Angel
by ForgottenPhantom
Summary: When I ran away, I hardly expected to run straight into teh Phantoms Lair...


AN: I know this chapters short and crummy, but review anyhow!

Disclaimer: All I own are two CDs of the soundtrack and a cool glowinthedark mask. And a rose…

Behind the Angel

I sobbed into my pillow, hating my life and wishing I could get away. It was the winter of 1898, and what remained of Le Opera Populaire, my sanctuary, was little but a shell of its former palace. There had been a great fire there, destroying the only place I felt safe. The catacombs were the only things left. Them and an Auditorium. I dried my eyes and slipped my cloak and ballet shoes on. I was NOT going to stay any longer. I tiptoed past my fathers study and winced as I trod on a squeaky floorboard. Papa's snores met my ears after a moment of hard listening. I sighed and continued out of the door. I breathed out in relief as I shut the door behind me. I could see the opera house over the rooftops. It was a few blocks away; I would reach it in about half an hour…

After half an hour I collapsed, exhausted, outside the grand front doors. I pulled my cloak around me tighter and cautiously opened them, instantly the memories came flooding back and in my minds eye Le Opera Populaire was as splendid and magnificent as it once had been. I could almost hear Carlotta throwing a tantrum, and the screams of the victims of the powerful Opera Ghost. I shuddered and then jumped at the sound of a door creaking. I let my eyes dart to the doors, nothing. Laughing I decided to look around, there was no one to stop me now. The old Auditorium first, the smashed and charred chandelier would still be there. I ran my fingers over the golden handles, letting more memories that I had buried wash over me. How my uncle Andre had brought me here for a Masquerade Ball, and how the Phantom ruined it. I could still see his deep green eyes, and know that I was not afraid. He was only a human, after all. Even when he killed, I did not care, I felt sorry for him; he had no one, I had my uncle. And then there was Christine. Perfect, pretty Christine. I knew that the Phantom liked her. I knew that she liked the Vicompte. I knew that, no matter what, the Phantom was going to be hurt. After the fire, I was banned from going down there, into the catacombs. My father was afraid of the Phantom. I tried to explain that I wasn't scared, he wouldn't listen. I thought about it, the Phantom couldn't still be down there… Could he? No, I was being ridiculous. The Phantom was long gone, my uncle had said. The Opera Populaire, a deadened shell for a deadened thing. I guess I never really believed him. I suddenly stepped on a rotting floorboard and was sent plummeting into the dark abyss. I screamed and grabbed for something to break my fall but my fingers found nothing. I covered my eyes and waited to hit the ground. And then shrieked as icy water enveloped me.

No, I was being ridiculous. The Phantom was long gone, my uncle had said. The Opera Populaire, a deadened shell for a deadened thing. I guess I never really believed him. I suddenly stepped on a rotting floorboard and was sent plummeting into the dark abyss. I screamed and grabbed for something to break my fall, but my fingers found nothing. I covered my eyes and waited to hit the ground. And then shrieked as icy water enveloped me.

Shivering, I sat on a bank. Looking around I guessed this was the Phantoms lair of sorts. It was a large, furnished and luxurious cave. I sneezed, and hoped someone would find me; I was freezing!

"What do you think you're doing?" I cleared my throat, out of shock more than anything else, stood, and turned to face the man.

"Sorry… I fell through a floorboard…" His face, half in shadow, softened. I patted my hair self-concisely.

"Monsieur, will you let me see your face?" He shook his head.

"Do you know who I am?"

"No… Unless…" He grinned, "T-the Ph-Phantom!" I gasped, taking a half step forwards. He did the same.

"Do not be afraid. I have never been one to hurt beauty… Even the hideous respect that." I gazed at him, and smiled a little.

"You're not hideous. Beauty is not everything." He squinted at me.

"Yes. It is. Christine made that clear when she ran off with that fop." I growled when Christine's name was said. "What is wrong?" He said in alarm.

"Christine… She seems to ruin a lot of lives…"

"You do not care for her?"

"Or the pretty-boy she ran off with." I came close to him, "Please, let me see your face." He stepped reluctantly into the light, revealing a scarred and deformed face. I brought my hand up to meet his face.

"See? Beauty means nothing to me." He stared at me, stunned.

"What is your name?"

"Lilly. Do with it what you will." He smiled down at me.

"Lilly is a very beautiful name… My name is Erik, plain as it is." I looked deep into his eyes, remembering the masquerade. I longed to make his pain end, and replace it with happiness, to help him through the loss of Christine. He looked around, as though he was missing something. I removed my hand, and looked up at him, secretly asking what he wanted… Then I realised. His mask. It was in my uncle's office, as Meg had given it to him when Erik had disappeared. I told him to wait and ran upstairs, into my uncle's office.

AN that's it for now! Sorry, writers block sucks. This is dedicated to someone, you know who you are!


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